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What made this even more unexpected and strange was that the moment his hands touched the crown and silver bracelet, they seemed to merge directly into his body, locking onto his forehead and wrist, respectively.
Mike's mind went blank. Looking at the female armor he had caught, he could foresee what was about to happen—
"Don't do this to me!"
No matter how much Mike rejected it in his heart, there was no escape.
In the next moment, he found himself inevitably dressed in the armor top and skirt. His original clothes vanished, exposing his arms and legs where the armor didn't cover.
In winter, such an outfit should have felt freezing. But maybe due to his unique physique, Mike didn't feel cold at all. On the contrary, with this wild, primitive armor on, his blood surged like magma, filling him with a fierce urge to shout and take up arms to battle!
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Mike could vaguely hear the sound of drums, as if echoing from ancient times, setting his blood on fire.
Who's beating those drums?
No, he realized suddenly—it wasn't drums. It was the powerful rhythm of his own heart pounding!
"It's so hot!"
Mike couldn't help but exclaim. Wearing this unique Amazonian armor, he felt his bloodline abilities fully awakening.
He sensed an indescribable power—or energy—coursing through his body, almost transforming into a tangible force beneath his skin!
Mike, of course, didn't know it yet, but he now possessed the power of a demigod!
Sss!
The overwhelming divine power within him had nowhere to go, and finally surged upward.
In the living room, Mike could be seen gritting his teeth, bearing a round shield on his back and wielding a long sword. A brilliant white light leaked from strands of his dark hair.
The light from a few strands dissipated into the air, shattering a nearby lampshade into powder! The divine energy condensed almost like a material substance, driving his hair to grow rapidly, changing from black to white, cascading down his back, shoulders, and around his face.
Now with long, silver hair, Mike was utterly bewildered. He quickly checked the hem of his skirt and breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that his... important parts were still intact.
But the situation was still spiraling out of control!
An ordinary person suddenly wielding demigod power was like a child suddenly in charge of a nuclear launch button!
This extraordinary first experience was quickly unraveling into chaos!
"I can't stay here. If I don't leave, I'll destroy everything around me!"
Realizing this, Mike took a step forward, but his strength was far from what it had been. It was like he was used to riding a bicycle and suddenly found himself in a top-tier sports car. Unknowingly, he shot forward like a shadow!
In an instant.
In the living room, anything in Mike's path—tables, chairs, lamp stands—was reduced to pieces!
His speed didn't slow, and he turned into a streak of light as he crashed through the balcony's floor-to-ceiling window!
Bang!
The window shattered!!
Without any warning, Mike was launched out of his 16th-floor apartment!
---
Night had already fallen, and the neighboring buildings were about 500 meters away from Mike's home.
In one of these apartments…
After dinner and a hot shower, Gwen was snuggled up in bed, wearing long pajamas. She buried her head in her stuffed animals like an ostrich, staying completely still, though her feet kicked rhythmically under the duvet, betraying her hidden restlessness.
"Gwen."
George, still in his police uniform, knocked gently on the door and asked, "Want some hot milk?"
"No, I'll get fat." Gwen replied from within, her voice sounding a little weak.
George chuckled, "Who was it that once said they wanted to live in a castle made of chocolate and cake and be a princess?"
"Dad! Stop bringing up the past!" Gwen protested, embarrassed, "Especially when…" She trailed off abruptly.
George sighed, "Especially when that boy is around?"
"No. It's not that. Anyway, he knows already." Although Gwen said this, her tone grew sadder, and the stuffed animals pressed against her head began to shake slightly.
"Gwen." George took a deep breath, as though steeling himself for an important decision. With a firm voice, he said, "If you really like that boy, Mike, then go ahead and tell him. As your father, I'll support you no matter what."
Inside the room.
The stuffed animals pressing on Gwen's head stopped shaking. After a few moments of silence, they all went flying off the bed.
"Dad, what are you talking about?!"
Gwen jumped up from the bed, sitting on the quilt like a duck, kneading the pillow with her hands. Her face was flushed, and it was as if steam might burst out any second—maybe because she had been buried for too long or because of a sharp poke to her heart.
Beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, and a few strands of golden hair clung to her cheeks.
"I don't... like Mike!" Gwen stammered, both ashamed and frustrated. She instinctively wanted to deny it, but her hesitation made the rebuttal weak and unconvincing.
"Okay, okay, I'm just saying if, if." George replied from outside the door, clearly understanding her feelings. Just then, his pager beeped on his sleeve, drawing his attention away.
"This is Officer George. What's the situation?" he responded.
Hearing the urgency, Gwen quickly quieted down in the room.
"Hmm?" As George listened to the report, his already serious face turned even more grave, "You're saying a woman in strange clothes suddenly appeared from the sky and robbed an armored truck?"
"Understood. I'm close by. I'll be there soon!"
Turning to the door, Officer George called, "Gwen, I have to go out on duty. Stay home and be safe."
"Okay, Dad. Be careful." Gwen responded.
"I will." George nodded before hurrying out.
In her room, Gwen's flushed face began to cool. Remembering her father's words, she murmured to herself, "A woman who fell from the sky? Could she be a mutant or someone with superpowers?"
Gwen frowned, her worry for her father growing. In this world, people with extraordinary abilities were rare but not unheard of—because she herself was one of them.
Quickly moving to her closet, she pushed aside her clothes, revealing a hidden compartment at the back. Inside was a unique, tight-fitting uniform in black and white.
The uniform was white from the neck to the chest, with black running from the chest down to her legs. There was also a white hood, lined with a web-like pattern in red and black, and a pair of green, low-top sneakers.
Without hesitation, Gwen removed the uniform, hood, and shoes, along with three ordinary band-aids from a drawer. Soon, her pajamas, including her bra and other clothes, were scattered on the floor as she donned her Ghost-Spider costume.
Fully suited up, Gwen crouched low, placing her hands lightly on the floor like a crawling spider, silent and ready.
She turned on the radio to a music channel, creating the illusion she was studying, then raised her hand and opened the window. With one last look at her closed door, she gripped the window sill, gracefully lifting herself outside.
Though Gwen's apartment wasn't as high as Mike's, it was still on the tenth floor—nearly thirty meters above the ground.
Her perspective flipped as she looked out over the city shrouded in night. Leaping from the ledge, she shot a thin line of spider silk from her wrist, anchoring it to a nearby building. Adjusting her body mid-air, she swung across the street, following the distant sound of police sirens.
----
At the intersection across the street, car alarms blared, and pedestrians screamed, fleeing as someone yelled, "Robbery!" An armored truck was parked in front of the Central Bank.
The vehicle, supposedly bulletproof, now had a huge dent in its roof. A woman clad in strange armor with a sword lay sprawled on the damaged truck, dollar bills strewn around her. One could only imagine the impact she had made.
Yes, this "strange woman" was actually Mike.
It wasn't surprising people mistook his gender; the armor he wore resembled a woman's, and his long silver hair falling to his shoulders only added to the illusion.
"My God! Who are you?"
Two fully armed SWAT officers near the armored truck were briefly stunned. Still, they drew their guns and shouted, though their shaky legs betrayed their fear.
"If I said I accidentally fell here from my sixteenth-floor apartment, would you believe me?"
Although Mike wanted to answer like this, he knew speaking would reveal his true gender. Besides, any explanation would seem absurd. After all, if someone had fallen from a height like that, it would be miraculous to be alive, let alone unharmed.
Ignoring the officers, Mike quickly flipped off the roof of the truck and sprinted down the street. His movements left afterimages in the night, and by the time the SWAT officers reacted, he was already ten meters away!
"Stop! Don't try to run!"
"I'm going to shoot!"
The officers hadn't expected Mike to flee so quickly and decisively. In desperation, one aimed at Mike's back and fired, heedless of the crowded area.
Bang!
The gunshot sent a wave of panic through the nearby crowd.
"Huh?" Mike glanced over his shoulder while running. He could see the bullet following him, each rotating mark on the bullet's head visible in his sharp vision.
Although he'd grown up in the U.S., a country notorious for gun violence, this was his first time seeing a real bullet—and it was aimed at him.
A normal person would be terrified in this situation. But in Mike's eyes, the bullet seemed unbearably slow.
As it neared, Mike simply twisted to one side, dodging the bullet as it flew past, brushing his silver hair.
"Not good!"
Just as he evaded the bullet, Mike noticed a car parked directly in his path. Without thinking, he reached out with lightning speed, grabbing the bullet that had just missed him.
The SWAT officers watching this scene could hardly believe their eyes.
Mike's palm throbbed with a dull ache from the heat of the bullet. He tossed it aside and, with a final glance at the shocked officers, sprinted away.
Tonight's events felt like Pandora's box had opened, and this was only the beginning.
At the intersection ahead, three police cars screeched around the corner, heading his way. Sirens wailed from both sides of the street.
"All I want is to go home." Mike muttered, frustrated, "And they're this efficient?" In movies, police always showed up late. Why did he have to deal with them so quickly?
With a glance around, he spotted a four-story convenience store nearby and decided to climb.
Pushing off with his toes, he aimed to leap to the rooftop, but his jump fell short. He only managed to reach about six meters before gravity pulled him down.
Directly below, the police convoy approached.
"Ugh, not again!" Mike twisted in mid-air, fighting the sinking feeling. Just then, from his left hand, a golden rope seemed to materialize, reaching out like a lifeline. The rope extended across the street, wrapping around a lightning rod on a building opposite.
There was no time to ponder where the rope came from. Gripping it tightly, Mike swung himself upward, landing safely on the roof.
"That was close." He murmured, retracting the golden rope and quickly leaving the area, jumping from rooftop to rooftop.
Down below, the police cars came to an abrupt halt.
"Who the hell was that?" One officer muttered, staring in disbelief at the footprints Mike left behind.
"Definitely not an ordinary person." Another officer replied.
"No kidding." The officers, speechless, stared up at the buildings. Catching bullets, running at insane speeds, and leaping four stories—it was all too surreal.
Just then, another police car pulled up. Officer George got out, quickly assessing the scene.
"Where did the suspect go?"
"Sir, she...no, he…jumped away." An officer replied, pointing at the building over ten meters high.
George took a moment to process this, "Request helicopter support immediately. We can't let a dangerous person like this roam the city!"